Drained
by Shades Of Hades
Summary: I know this is kinda overdone, but it's YAOI, and Freiza/Vegeta... Rape and such. And a little goku/vegeta on the side.


These characters don't belong to me. I wish I could have told you this in a more clever way, but I'm afraid I can't, I'm not that creative. All flames will be used for heat, light, and cooking. Useful aren't they? Warnings: Yaoi, abuse, angst, and rape, of a sort. I know this storie/plot thing is over used, but I'm doing it again. Why? Because I'm unoriginal. *Cheesy grin* With that said, enjoy. *Motions towards the fic with an opened hand.*

Drained 

**By: Shades Of Hades**

**November, 2001**

Mercy. A word never slipped from my father's fiery tongue. This was my father's mercy. I, his only son, a servant to the enemy. I must be degraded to bow down to him, and serve his every command, just like a dog. Oh, but it's worse.

            Mere commoners surround me. Low class. They wish for me to serve them as well, as if I am trash. I am a prince. Princes serve no one! Yet, these men think I'm just a child that they can order around. They believe they're greater than I, that I'm below them! Filthy vermin!

            They are so disgusting, always looking for cheep thrills and easy money. I can't stand to be around them, but I have no choice. I never want to become like them, such slobs! I would be such a waste to my beautiful race. But none-the-less I am here.

****

            I have never hated one's face so much in my life. I hate his corrupt touch, the way his fingers freely roam and his hands defile. I've always had some much pride. I hate watching it all go down the drain.

            My black eyes remain blank as he steals away what little pride and consciousness I have left. The uncaring mask falls to the floor again and again as I scream. 

            I met his eyes, so full of my own life, and I want to cry. The thief! The Murder! He's part of me now.

            I refuse to cry. I will not beg for mercy. I will not. Father told me not to cry. Father said--       

****

            I lay upon my bunk, trapped within my own darkness, scarred and broken for all to see. Tears dry upon my porcelain cheeks. At least the blood has stopped flowing.

            I refused medical attention. I refused any help at all. I'd rather suffer than have to admit that someone else helped me. My pride belongs to me again, and it's back with a vengeance. 

****

            Forgive and forget, right? I wish it were that easy. I could never forgive, but I'll try all my life to forget the wrong. I've already tried this long. At least my mind is at a little more ease knowing that he is dead. Well, at least I think he is. You can never be to sure with your enemies. 

            My lover snores next to me in complete oblivion to my internal pain. It seems he's always been a bit clueless.

****

                It was horrible the first time, but now I watch my pride-my façade-fall to the floor and smash over and over again. My salty tears paint my blank face; a masterpiece of pain nearly complete, but it still needs a little more work. My pride crushed between the shape teeth of reality. No escape. Everything that has meant something before lays on the floor with my torn and tattered clothes, but he knows I'll just pick back up my porcelain mask and dust it off just like before. I'll just glue back together my arrogance. No one will ever know.

            My dignity and body defiled, I'll stumble back to my room to sulk. I won't even care that my clothes are ripped and bloody. No one will notice or seem to care, so I'll give no explanations. I just wish I could feel better than Freiza's filthy trash. 

****

            I wrap my arms around Kakarrot. I never thought that I'd feel safe again. I only want my innocence and my soul back. Freiza sucked it away and left my drained of life like a vampire's victim. I'm not sure I was the victim, but I know I didn't want it. Who would—could?

            I press my tarnished lips against the other man's back. I've found someone who respects me,  and someone who understands my pride. Maybe one day he'll make it heal and patch up with gaping wounds still left.

****

            My mind's numb as his fingers run under my chin, soft, but hurting all the same. They continue to travel down my chest his nails scraping my abused flesh.

            "You always were my favorite," he whispers in my ear as his teeth find my sensitive tan skin, his voice and mouth teasing.

            I fell apart, my body shattering like an expensive vase, because that's all it was, something to look at that had lasted years, but was still to frail to be handled. 

            The twisted bastard. He's even here, in my dreams.

~ End ~

A/N: Sorry it was so short. Hopefully this was a little different than most people's stories. This is actually the first Dragon Ball Z fic I wrote, even though I've watched it for about 4 years. Sad, ain't it? 


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